He’d have to remember to tell her when she did well. It was easier with Aric. Not so much with a woman.

But she needed that reassurance, so he’d get his ass on that job too.

Chapter Twelve

If you could kick the person in the pants responsible for most of your trouble, you wouldn’t sit for a month. ~ Theodore Roosevelt

The night had been as fucked-up as Hawk expected.

He woke in a cold sweat with the day’s battle playing in his head. Shooting in slow motion and seeing the nauseating damage each slug had done. Each replay had been slightly different, and in the last one, he’d been too slow. The PZ in the tree had shot him, and he’d been unable to move as Bull got gunned down. Then the house exploded beneath the women.

Their screaming had kicked him out of the nightmare, thank fuck.

He wiped off the sweat with a washcloth, letting the cold bite ground him, and then slugged down a glass of water to rinse the bitter taste from his mouth.

Once outside, he checked the courtyard. The night was gray and cold. Reassuringly silent. Barefooted, he patrolled the perimeter to reassure himself there were no intruders.

His behavior was a lot like Mako’s sometimes.

He half-grinned. There were worse role models than the honorable first sergeant.

As his gut settled, Hawk pulled on a flannel shirt and socks, fetched his violin, and settled out on his deck.

As he tuned the strings, streamers of fog drifted across the lake like lingering ghosts from his dreams. Beneath the fog was the black, still water.

The lake was his talisman. Infinitely changeable. Birthing life; cruelly taking life. Always beautiful.

Often enough at night, he played to the Lady of the Lake, offering her the sad haunting melodies from his heart. And she would gift him with a few hours of peace.

As she did now.

When his fingers grew too chilled to play, he went back to bed for a few more hours and rose at his usual time.

Dressed in sweats and a T-shirt and ready to run, he was tying his shoes when Aric slipped in the door.

“Hey, kid.”

Still looking sleepy, Aric leaned against his knee, pressing close. Yeah, Hawk wasn’t the only one disturbed by yesterday.

“Hungry?”

A nod of the blond head.

Hawk stroked a hand over silky hair that was softer than puppy fur. “All right.” A banana and milk would tide the boy over until breakfast. “Your mom still asleep?”

Another nod.

Figured. She’d had a fucking shitty time yesterday.

Hadn’t they all. He needed to run it off.